


The Wolf in the Snow

by Smultron



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hypothermia, Pre-Relationship, Rescue, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smultron/pseuds/Smultron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kink meme fill I did a couple of months ago. Essentially Solas thinks Lavellan is dead after the attack on Haven and decides to leave because there’s no reason for him to stay with the Inquisition now. On his way down the mountain the wolf scents something that gives him hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf in the Snow

Solas sighed heavily, there was little chance she had survived the avalanche. Even if she had, she had been left behind. They left her behind. To survive by herself, in the middle of nowhere in this weather with few means of finding them, the odds were not in her favour. He kept thinking he could have done more, but currently he was frustratingly weak. Ordinarily, he would not head out in a snowstorm either but if he wanted to slip away unnoticed he doubted he could find a better opportunity. In this confusion no one would pay attention to an insignificant elf apostate.

With Lavellan gone along with the mark on her hand there was little reason for him to stay with the Inquisition. All the small rits scattered over Thedas were going to pose a problem but they were nothing if he could get hold of his foci again. He had to concentrate on that. So much had gone wrong, but at least the breach was sealed and that was progress albeit at a great cost.

He sighed again and gathered his few possessions. As he walked towards the outsquirts of the camp he heard the cries from the wounded and the survivors who had lost their loved ones. Feeling guilty he hurried along. He walked long enough to feel safe. He took off his clothes and quickly added them to his pack and transformed to his wolf form as fast he could. It was fiendishly cold but it only took a second to be covered with warm fur. He grasped his pack with his teeth and started his travel. It took a little time to get use to the dramatic enhancement of his hearing and sense of smell. But it was useful, this way it was much easier to stay clear of humans and of course to hunt, if he needed to.

He plowed through the snow, why was it that it felt like he ran away with his tail between his legs? He thought of Lavellan, truthfully it was a miracle she had survived as long as she had. She risked her life almost everyday for the people who had taken her prisoner. But now when she really was gone it came as a shock even though it should not. They should have helped her, they, he, should have done more but he ran. And here he was running again.

He realised that he missed her more than he thought he would. He missed her inquisitive eyes, her shameless flirting and even her neverending questions, so eager for new knowledge. She was Dalish, so she had that hateful vallaslin on her face. Even so she had been quite lovely, she had not deserved to be caught in this. That could of course be said of many people, but this was personal, even if he had tried to keep his distance he had not succeeded. She was unlucky to have met him but he knew he would never forget her. It was a heavy realisation, he had destroyed yet another thing he held dear. All his good intentions always turned into the worst possible outcome. It was always so, why should this be any different?

It was difficult to see because little ice crystals hit his eyes constantly, they stung. The snow was deep now and because of the wind, it piled up creating massive snowdrifts which he had to bypass. He was strong, four legs also made easier but he sunk. It felt like the wind came from all directions, it confused his sense of smell. In this chaotic weather he started to regret his decision. Maybe he had to seek shelter after all. He contemplated his options, there were not many trees here so near the tree line. There were caves in these mountains but he did not know exactly where, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack in these conditions. He decided to try to go further down the mountain, at least until he could find more trees.

It did not take very long for him to find a little windswept grove. He dropped his pack and started to dig in the snow with his front paws. If he could dig a pile of it could serve as a shelter from the wind. When he deemed it would be high enough he curled into a ball behind it and covered his face with his tail. Perhaps he could sleep whilst the storm raged and set out in the morning. It was not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but it would have to do.

After a while he noticed the snow had stopped falling just as abruptly as it had appeared. The sky was clear with a few lingering clouds, it was almost full moon and the snow glistened in its light. He felt the temperature dropping, it would be difficult to keep the refugees warm now. He did not feel cold however, his fur did its job.

But then he scented something, a familiar scent. His heart raced, could it be? He sprang out of his little hiding place, it was definitely an elf. He could not say for sure, he had not been near enough to know her scent. Sadly his sense of smell was no better than an ordinary elf in his elven form. But who else could it be?

Swiftly, swiftly he raced towards the scent, it became stronger and stronger. He rejoiced, had she somehow miraculously survived?

There. He found her, it was her. But she was lying down which was not a good sign.

“Please, tell me I’m not too late!” he thought desperately.

 _“Herald!”_  he tried to call out to her but it only came out as a howl. But it was apparent she had heard him because she raised her head.

She made a wry smile, “Fen’Harel… I thought I’d meet Falon’Din.” She almost sounded drunk.

 _“Do not speak of Falon’Din! You will not die here, not if I can help it!”_  But of course all she could hear were wolf’s growls.

“I need to sleep…”

 _“No!”_ he howled in agony. She was drifting away, he had to think, _"Think!"_

First he had to make sure she did not fall asleep, he nibbled at her neck and howled in her ear. She tried to push him away irritatedly. But he did not relent, he lay down beside her and shoved her with his nose. When she opened her eyes, and he got eye contact he tried to urge her to climb onto him. And to his relief she seemed to understand because she tried to grab his neck hair.

“...can’t use… hands,” she slurred her words barely coherent now. She was about lie down on her back again so he quickly shifted so that she settled on his back. He rose making sure she lay as safe as possible, at least she held her arms around his neck, and started running as fast as he could without risking to drop her. The camp was not difficult to find now that the weather was clear. It was surprisingly close and thankfully it did not take very long for him to reach it, even with Lavellan on his back. When he was almost there he slowed his pace. He could not very well run into the camp like this, since it would most likely earn him arrows. Instead he moved as close as he dared, dropped her as gently as possible and then howled loudly. And unsurprisingly something started to stir, he could hear shouting. He hurried away.

“It’s the Herald!”

He heard them shout, good, they found her. Now all he had to do was to retrieve his pack and try to sneak into camp without raising too much suspicion.

Now it felt exhilarating to run as fast as he could, feeling the cold air ruffle his fur.  Adrenalin was pumping through his body, she was alive!

It did not take long for him to come back and he was almost immediately met by an incredulous Varric.

“Where have you been Chuckles?!”

“I-”

“Do you even know she’s alive?”

“The Herald is alive? How is she?” Solas asked eagerly. He had left her in the snow so he did not know in what condition she was in.

“Apparently she suffers from hypothermia, all I know is that they’re trying to warm her up right now. ”

It was not surprising given the circumstances, but he felt alarmed anyway, hypothermia could be serious. He thought about it, perhaps there was a way he could increase her body temperature magically. He knew he had to try:

“I know a spell that may help,” he said whilst still contemplating on how he should do it in order for it to be reasonably safe.  

“I’m not going to say go nuts, but if you think you can help her maybe you should try it at least. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Have a little faith, Master Tethras. I may not be a healer, but magic is my area of expertise.”

“What, did I come off as sarcastic? No, really, try it. I just wanted to remind you that Bianca wouldn’t appreciate if something bad happened to the Herald. Be careful, we just got her back alive against all odds.”  

“Where is she?” Solas ignored Varrics threats, there was no time for explanations now.

“With Mother Giselle.”

Varric looked like he was going to say something else but Solas did not bother to find out what it was.

He went directly to her tent, Cassandra seemed to trust him more now and no one stopped him when he said he wanted to be alone with the Herald. They knew he was the one who had kept her alive from the destructive force of the mark on her hand. He forbade anyone to disturb him because what he would attempt could possibly be lethal if performed incorrectly. He had a theory that he might warm her up more effectively from the inside with magic, but he had never actually tried it before. He placed his hand on her forehead, she still felt cold to touch. He would warm her up just a little.

He focused his mana and let a small amount of magic into her body, he let it run with her blood through her blood vessels, from the heart to the smallest capillaries and back through her veins. He tried to keep its temperature at just above normal to hopefully speed the warming process up. He could feel that her blood was colder than his and it was hard to discern any progress because it came very slowly. After well over two hours he finally felt her temperature almost equalled his, so he stopped. Better to let her own body do the rest, though he should fetch some more blankets.

When he came back she was still asleep. Though now her chest visibly moved showing that she without question was alive. Before it was even hard to determine her pulse, she was clearly getting better. He sighed of relief, he was exhausted, it did not take much mana, but it was an endurance test to keep his focus for such a long time with absolutely no room for mistakes. He sat down beside her again and looked at her, she looked almost peaceful now. He tucked the blankets he had found around her. It felt good to be able to do something, but now he was idle. The only thing he could do was to wait and see. He studied her face, and imagined how it would look without the vallaslin. He was caught by a sudden impulse, and before he had time to think he smelled her neck and hair. He remembered this scent now, it did not smell exactly the same as when he was a wolf, because then it was more nuanced. He recollected himself, what was he doing? Had he lost his mind? This was best to be forgotten, thankfully Lavellan was still fast asleep so she could not have noticed. The truth was, he knew he was attracted to the girl. But however that might be, it was not something he could act upon. It would not be right.

Apparently he had disturbed Lavellan because she stirred, and opened her eyes.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. You should try to sleep."

"Thirsty..."

"Oh, of course. Wait here, I will fetch some water for you. And maybe something to eat, it would be good if you ate."

"I'm not going anywhere for the time being," she scoffed at the idea.

Solas smiled, if she was that spirited she would be in no danger for now.

"I'm happy to see you so well recovered," he said and left the tent to hunt food. He realised he neither had eaten for a long time, so he took enough for both of them. It would not do to lose strength at this point, tomorrow would no doubt be trying.

“Here you are,” he handed her a cup, “It’s warm water with a little honey. I suspect you need some sugar.”

“Honey? Where did you manage to get hold of that?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“I have my resources,” he answered, not so innocently.

“...You stole it, didn’t you?”

“Da’len, you’re the Herald of Andraste, I only need to mention you and I get everything I ask for,” he answered her condescendingly. He did not want to tell her it was from his private stash, although almost all of it was left in Haven, he always carried a little jar with him. He had always had a sweet tooth and honey was the only thing that made tea drinkable.

“Oh…”

“Drink.”

She emptied the cup in one go, and he immediately refilled it. She looked like she was parched, he could tell her lips were dry.

The ate their plain meal quietly, each deep in thought. It was she who finally broke the silence:

"Solas, I'm so glad you made it, I wasn't sure you would get away from the avalanche or the templars."

"It's more remarkable that you survived, Herald. Perhaps you are blessed by the Maker after all," he jested to hide his bad conscious. Despite all that had happened she worried about him.

"You will laugh at me, I know what you think of the Dalish. But the one who saved me wasn't the Maker, it was ...Fen'Harel." She said it reluctantly, as if she did not want to believe Fen’Harel would do such a thing.

Solas shifted uncomfortably but kept his face neutral, "Oh, what makes you think so?" He was treading dangerous grounds but as usual he was too curious not to ask. He wanted to know what she thought about the situation. And possibly of Fen’Harel as well, although he was a little afraid of her feelings on that particular subject.

"I think I was almost about to give up, when an enormous wolf came and picked me up on its back. After that I don't remember anything and suddenly I woke up here in the camp."

"It may be the hypothermia, I have heard it can affect the brain."

"Are you saying I'm delirious? I'm quite sure a wolf carried me on its back."

“Just because it was a wolf does not mean it was Fen’Harel.”

“Are you joking? No ordinary wolf could be that big, besides why would a wolf help me? If it had been a real wolf I’m sure it would have killed me instead. Hm, I wonder why I wasn’t scared?”

"However that may be, we should focus on more pressing matters. How are your hands?"

"They’re actually alright though they’re a little numb. I think I have a blurred memory someone forced me to drink a healing potion when I came here. I guess I can count myself lucky it isn’t worse and that I actually wore that dreadful cowl. It’s nice to have ears."

“Then I’m glad.” He smiled at her.

“You know what the strange thing is?”

“Besides you telling me you came here riding on a wolf’s back? No.”

“Why would Fen’Harel help me? Wouldn’t that go against his very nature?”

“Maybe the Dalish don’t know as much about him as they think they do.”

“So you’re saying we’re wrong about that as well? I can’t help but fear the help comes with strings attached.”

“You’re afraid of the Dread Wolf are you?” he teased her.

“Maybe a little, you have to remember the Dalish aren’t fond of Fen’Harel and this kind of contradicts that...”

“Who knows what he might do. Claim your first born?” he chuckled mischievously.

“Don’t even say such things.” She did look a little more horrified than he would like. Did she really believe that he would steal children from their mothers? Anyway it was time to end this conversation, “Or perhaps it wasn’t the Dread Wolf, you could actually have been delirious. Most likely you managed to come here on your own, and your mind is only playing tricks on you.”

“Hmpf, I know what I saw, even if you won’t believe me."

She actually pouted. He smiled at her childish display even if he knew she was right. But he was not going to tell her that.

"It is late and I think it's time for you to sleep.”

“If you say so, hahren.” It was not difficult to see she was being sarcastic. Perhaps it was not his place to say, she was after all an adult. But although she was unaware of it, she was practically his patient right now.

“It was only a friendly suggestion, da’len. You have been through much today, and it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

She seemed to contemplate this for a bit and then she just said, “Oh, alright. I guess I’m kind of tired anyway.” She yawned and lay down on her bed roll again.

“Good night, Herald,” he said and crawled out  of the tent. He was very tired himself, the only thing he wanted was to go to sleep but he felt he had to speak with Cassandra first.

“Seeker, I believe the Herald is quite recovered. Or as much as one can hope for considering.”

“Thank the Maker.” Cassandra looked very relieved.

“She is asleep again at the moment. But I think you should be able to talk to her in the morning.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Not much, she was a little confused but nothing serious. ...Well then, I take my leave.”

“Good night, Solas. And thank you.”

“...No need to thank me, I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Even so.”

With that he went to the tent he slept in and it did not take long before he drifted into sleep. In the fade he was a wolf. There was a sense of utter joy when he ran, the rhythm of his paws touching the ground, the wind in his fur, the crisp air. He felt completely free, even if it was just for the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Solavellan fic. I’ve written fanfiction before but for another fandom, and that was a few years ago. It’s been a while since I wrote anything in English actually.  
> I edited this a little and removed some embarrassing mistakes, false friends and so on. Have to remember to look up words I’m not totally sure of, especially idioms.  
> One problem is that I don’t have a beta reader, but hopefully it’s a little better now.  
> The title is inspired by an old Belle & Sebastian song, I had a hard time figuring out what to call this.


End file.
